Into My Arms
by coloursflyaway
Summary: It has always been this way, or at least as long as Loki can remember. They balance each other out, his brother and he, like day and night and so he can't help but orbit around Thor the same way his brother orbits around himself.


It has always been this way, or at least as long as Loki can remember. They balance each other out, his brother and he, like day and night and so he can't help but orbit around Thor the same way his brother orbits around himself. There is a constant push and pull, testing how long the chains binding them together really are, but each time when one of them has reached the limit and takes another step to finally escape, the restraints yank him back, and like rubber, drag him back closer than he has been before. In the end, it is only a matter of time until one of them will veer off far enough that, when their ties contract again, they will not only bring them closer, but fuse them forever.

And so Loki does not fret, does not fight when Thor takes off with his friends, after making it clear that he does not wish for the trickster's presence, but simply watches him ride off. His brother's hair shines golden in the light of the rising sun and without thinking Loki drags a hand through his own dark locks before walking back into the palace and to his studies. It hurts, that the other wants to be away from him (because in the end it is always this what drives Thor to go on hunting trips and Loki to retreat to the library for several days), it always does, but the pain will only last for a few days until his brother returns, all easy smiles and oozing pride. Like always, Loki will be the first person he will search out, to boast and laugh and tell of his adventures and the god of mischief will listen and pretend to be bored out of his wits by the other's tales. And when the time comes that Thor will have to report back to their parents, his brother will reach out for Loki's hand and squeeze it softly and they'll share a smile, before the other dashes out of the room, filled to the brim with enthusiasm.

Only that this time, it does not take days, but two weeks until Thor returns, hours before dawn and yet Loki bolts the second he hears the bells being sounded to declare Asgard's golden prince's return. A wave of relief he will deny for the rest of his life washes over him, because they have never been apart from each other this long before and he has been worried.

Thor has missed him, just as he has been missed, Loki can see it in the way his brother barges into his chambers merely minutes after his arrival, his smile so bright and cheerful, the trickster can't help but return it.

'Hello, brother', he greets, finding that his arms are itching to wrap themselves around Thor's neck, to pull him closer, but in his mind there are whispers of, _Not yet. Wait._

The other steps closer, hands searching for something in his pockets, but Loki does not take his eyes off Thor's face. There are scratches scattered over golden skin, dust and grime and dirt cling to his features, his hair, but he can't bring himself to tell the other man to see the healers first, to visit the bathing house before coming here like he would have on any other day.

'I have brought you something', his brother not-quite-greets back, holding out a large broad hand, and it takes everything for Loki not to laugh. For usually, tokens are to be brought back to one's lover, not one's kin. And yet, he graciously accepts the gift, inspecting it curiously.

It is a necklace, thin and fragile, with strange runes carved carefully into each link and for one moment, Loki does not know if he should not be offended. But Thor steps forward (so close that the trickster can almost feel the heat radiating from his body) and places one hand over the other's, preventing him from giving it back, 'It is woven with magic, the oldest they have in Alfheim. I did hope it would be of interest to you.'

There is a plea in Thor's voice which he cannot help but comply to, and he closes his fingers around the present and smiles up to his golden, perfect fool of a brother, who he has grown to love beyond belief.

It takes Loki years to find out that what is etched into the metal is not an enchantment but an ancient lover's oath.

And suddenly everything changes and he is a traitor, a Jotünn, a king, a liar and a coward; there is fear, darkness, silence, pain and rage and then New York is burning, crashing and dying because of the army he has brought with him. And yet, he can take neither thoughts nor eyes off his brother; nothing has changed. The fight passes in the blink of an eye and Loki can barely concentrate enough to realize that he is losing, beat by nothing more than a few, tiny mortals and yet, the knowledge does not hurt as much as he thought it would, because maybe, _maybe_ this is it. Maybe he has finally overstepped his boundaries so far that he now will be either finally free or bound forever.

For once, ha cannot read his brother's face like he used to, can't tell what he's thinking and it is strange and a little bit frightening. They drag him off, in chains like a mere criminal and not a prince of Asgard, a king of Jotunheim, but still he cannot do anything but search for a clue, for anything in Thor's gaze, the desperation slowly creeping up on him as time passes. He's too tired to speak and so he lets them put him into a cell without putting up much of a fight, only to realize afterwards that this will be surely seen as defeat. He should be furious, outraged, but instead he only shuts his eyes and tries to forget about everything.

It could be hours until he next hears something, maybe even a day or two, but then the door slides open and there are steps against the cold, hard floor; familiar steps which make Loki's heart speed up until it beats with the same rhythm. Still, he does not open his eye, doesn't even twitch as he feels the bonds holding them together changing, causing them to rush towards each other with a terrifying velocity.

'Brother.' Thor voice seems to resonate in Loki's chest, making it swell and the voices in his head cry, _Wait, wait. You don't know yet._

The trickster hums in response and waits. For a moment, Thor seems to just stand there and he can picture the slightly lost expression on his brother's face and the voices continue, _Not yet. Wait_, for surely, the demigod is going to turn around and leave. However, the moment passes and he still hasn't left and Loki wonders if the other is just waiting for someone else to show, so they can drag him to face Midgardian justice, but then the body in front of him moves towards him and sits down next to him. He is still not close enough they are touching and yet, it is suddenly hard to breathe and even harder to keep his eyes shut.

'I am taking you back to Asgard', Thor starts, as if talking to himself, 'This is why it has taken me so long to get here. The others did not want to let you leave so easily.'

Loki hears how his brother's head falls back against the wall and wonders if it is the right moment to speak, but Thor continues, so he stays silent. 'I still do not understand what has lead you to do this, brother, although I wish I would.'

They stay silent, but it doesn't matter because there is nothing the trickster wants to hear except for Thor's breaths as he tries to match his own to them. His mind is reeling, trying to find an answer, but there is none he can think of, at least none which his brother will understand. The voices go on, _Wait._

And wait he does, until his back is stiff and his legs have long since gone numb, until he hears the rustle of cloth moving beside him and braces himself to be left alone, and the voices still whisper, _Not yet, not yet_.

But Thor never stands up, never leaves the cell and locks the door so that Loki is left to plan something even worse to finally overstep that one boundary, instead he puts his hand over the trickster's, the touch painfully tentative and uncertain. Still, it's enough, for there is a chant of, _yesyesyesyes_ in Loki's head and his eyes fly open, head turning so he can look down onto their hands; one tan and strong, a warrior's hand, one pale and fine-fingered, fit for a magician. Night and day, like always.

Without thinking, his lips start moving, but he cannot look at his brother's face, not yet.  
'Do you remember…', he starts, surprised at how hoarse his voice sounds, 'When we were younger, I would sometimes get terribly mad all of a sudden and enchant your cape so it would wrap itself around your feet, or your boots so they would stay fixed on the ground? And after I had calmed down I would come back and we would stay up all night telling each other stories?'

Almost he can hear Thor's thoughts rushing by, fast and blurred, until a soft _Oh_ escapes his mouth and Loki knows the other understands. There is another moment of silence and the trickster can't help but growing anxious as his brother does not answer, but then, slowly, Thor moves his hand, slipping it under Loki's and pressing their palms together. A flare of warmth shoots through Loki's body and finally, he dares to look up. Thor is staring back at him, blue eyes wide with surprise, but a kind smile on his lips like he wears in the best of Loki's memories.

'I do', he answers, almost but not quite a whisper and Loki laces their fingers together. 'Just like I remember leaving you alone to go training because I knew when I came back you would still be there, reading me old tales about knights and dragons, if I just asked nicely enough.'

The trickster nods, he can remember these times, when it hurt but felt so wonderful afterwards with his brother's head in his lap as he told him tale after tale. The voices are still crying out, _yes_, but Loki pays them no attention for Thor slides closer, turning until they are facing each other; no way out. His brother leans in until the trickster can feel his breath, his warmth against his own, cold skin.

'Did it really have to come to this?', Thor asks, and he can feel the words before he can hear them.

'Yes.' The answer comes back hidden under one of Loki's heavy breaths, short and sweet and true –they both know.

Thor looks at his brother, in a way he hasn't in a long time and Loki can feel the chains between them, dragging them closer, closer until they won't know where he night starts and the day begins. And one of them gives in to what has been inevitable all along and leans forward, brushing lips against lips in the softest kiss and this is right, this is what everything has been leading up to all along. The kiss deepens as the dams holding them back crumble and break and dissolve and Loki feels how his whole being forces its way past his lips and pours right into his brother's mouth and there is nothing he can do to stop it. And as he feels how Thor gives back just as much, filling all the spaces which had been hollow ever since he can remember, he finds he does not even want to anymore.

And in the back of his mind, the sweet, everlasting voices are finally still.


End file.
